


Pro Bone-O

by SchmillionPizza



Category: Tales From the Cryptkeeper, Tales from the Crypt (TV 1989)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchmillionPizza/pseuds/SchmillionPizza
Summary: The Cryptkeeper is at his wits end with The Old Witch and The Vault Keeper. So he results to hiring a lawyer to bring them to trial.He soon finds out that the lawyer he gets makes him remember a little -too- much of what it was like to be a human -wink wink-





	Pro Bone-O

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I love shows that are do obscure? 
> 
> Not much NSFW, except for our favorite sassy skeleton man being weird towards his lawyer.

Monsters. 

Their world was secret. Hidden away from the humans. Everything was kept away in plain sight. Most of the community was active in the woods. The humans had come up with ridiculous little stories that kept most of them away. Nonsense about a haunting. Which in all honesty really offended the Phantom family. 

It was a melting pot. Some monsters were born a monster, some were dearly departed and had come back as an undead. 

“Don’t let an undead marry your daughter! Vote No on Choposition 13.” 

“Increase of newlydeads gives a fright to the Monster Comission.” 

“No Vacancy for Zombies.”

The monster world was very unkind to the undead. They were seen as the lowest form of monster due to the fact they were once human. Some didn’t even consider them a monster. But where else would they go? 

To become an undead you have to have died from a violent act. Most became undead due to murder or manslaughter. If you fell off a cliff or ran into something you didn’t come back. You had to have died by another humans hand. Your birthday was something you celebrated when you were alive. Your Crypt Day or DeadDay was what you celebrated as an undead. The age you died was the age you physically stayed. Forever. Wounds didn’t heal quickly but they did heal. You didn’t get sick. Didn’t need sleep or to eat but you could if you wanted to. It’s how it was with everything. You didn’t need to do anything you did when you were alive, but you could and it felt good. One of the few creature comforts you had left

A few lucky undead were famous. Some were doctors, lawyers and television show hosts. The most famous undead was the infamous Cryptkeeper. So many rumors had spread about him. Where he had come from. That perhaps he was born undead. That he always had embalming fluid running through his veins instead of blood. He let the rumor mill keep spinning. It was entertaining to him. He always needed entertainment. 

...

It was a lovely evening. A downpour had turned the barren plot of land that surrounded his dilapidated mansion into a quicksand pit. The rain was pouring so loudly and the roof was leaking. Which he actually enjoyed. Pity he spent most of his time in his crypt which was deep underground. 

Perhaps this lovely weather would keep out the two clowns that were constantly adding wrinkles to his already dried up face. 

He was seated behind his casket, casually dressed in his robe, slippers on his feet. A nice warm cup of coffee that was sweetened with rotten milk and swamp water soothed his pounding headache. He was trying to figure how how to solve his problem and return to filming his beloved show. 

Somehow they were getting in. He had set up multiple traps for humans but not for other monsters. 

He sipped his drink and sighed. What was a Cryptkeeper to do? They had magic and whatever kind of moronic science The Vault Keeper practiced. He was physically limited. 

He flipped on the television to get some ideas. Casually petting a rat that had crawled up into his lap. 

A commercial played that he half payed attention to. Some humans whining about things that they didn’t really need to worry about. Money, sex and food were all they seemed to be preoccupied with. Not that he could blame them. When you were dead you had all the time in the world for those things. But nothing came from it. 

“Injured on the job? Harassed? Call the Crooks Brothers Law firm! We’re ready to believe you!” 

He perked up. 

“Dead-on! That’s it! I’ll get a lawyer.” He held the rat up as if it could understand him. It bit him and he giggled tossing it back to the dusty floor. He sprang up and went to retrieve some parchment and a quill. 

“ I may not be able to do magic, or make absurd contraptions. But I can -sue- them!! Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get a hung jury.” He cackled to himself. 

He immediately began writing for an add to be put into The Gorey Times. The newspaper that circulated in the Gravenhurst monster community. 

“Wanted: Experienced Attorney to represent harassed monster. Must be cut-throat and must not scare easily. Inquire within to 711 Woods RD. “ 

“Sterling. Sterling!!” The Cryptkeeper called out. 

The squeaking of a bat soon filled the crypt. He held the sealed envelope out to it. 

“Take this to The Gorey Times. And take Hitchcock with you. You’re always zoning out!” He said putting his hands on his hips as the two bats flew away. He smiled and sat back. Quite satisfied with himself. 

He leaned back in his chair, grinning when he saw one of his favorite movies was playing. Faces of Death. The rat from before cane back into his lap. “My cousin is in this picture. He was picked dead last but they weren’t looking for the freshest faces for this one.” He sneered as he settled in. 

...

The next few days were filled with duds or people that only wanted to represent him because he was the Cryptkeeper. None of them really got -why- he was so annoyed with his rivals. He wanted someone who would strike terror into their non-existent hearts and truly make them suffer. Was that so much to ask? 

“So I was wondering if I took your case do you think you could put in a word for my son? He wants to get into show business!” 

“Oh. I’m supposed to have references aren’t I?” 

“Generally Hysterical Hospital, As the Cemetery Rots and All My Children of The Night.... are the shows I was banned from because I tried to sue them cause they wouldn’t cast me.”

He rubbed his head. This was maddening. And not in the good way that he liked. All of them were morons, jokes, idiots looking for their 15 seconds of fame. Useless. 

He was about to lift the lid on his casket to sleep this terrible night away. When a knock came to his door. 

“...No more! I’m done with enter-maiming these idiots.” He opened the door and the few hairs he had left on his head stood on end. 

As if to suggest..something else was standing on end. 

“Hello. I’m here for the Ad. Are you the one looking for a lawyer?” 

To his very pleasant surprise an undead raven haired woman stood in his doorway. She was a lovely shade of sickly green, a bit more of a warmer shade than he. Yellowed , sunken eyes, she also didn’t have a nose. A sign of an older undead. But she looked to be about 35 when she died. He wondered how she got killed. 

He wiped the goofy smirk he had on his face away and his hair flopped back down. 

“Tch. My crypt-day was last month. You’re late, but I’m sure I have a casket you could jump out of.” He said sneering. 

“I’m sure if you could review my exsume’ you’d see that I’m more than qualified.” She handed him a red sheet of paper and he mulled it over. 

“Hm. You were on the legal count-cil for Monsters vs. Dredd Rott?” 

She nodded. “ and many many harassment suits...You look very familiar. ...Do I know you?” 

He looked around then motioned her in. He grabbed a candle-opera and held it closer to him. Striking a pose. 

“...Still nothing.” She shrugged. 

“...I’m the Cryptkeeper!! I have a delightful show that I tell dead-time stories on?!” He stomped his foot in protest. So offended that she didn’t know him!! 

She nodded. Snapping her spindly fingers. 

“That’s why I don’t know you. I don’t watch TV. I don’t have the time....but you still look familiar. OH! You did a billboard ad for Deadmann’s Coffin Pillows!”

“That was before I even started my show...” 

She smiled and looked around. 

He smirked. “ Welcome to my humble rest. I don’t really spend too much time up here. I am mostly down in the Crypt.” He motioned to the stairs leading downward. 

She took in every little detail.  
“I love it when spiderwebs are so thick you can’t even see through them!! So many people are all about artificial webs these days but...I’m a traditionalist myself..” she said stepping down with him. 

“I have the most fangtastic family of brown recluse and tarantulas living in my crypt. And a horrific host of many other creatures.” He said showing her to a chair as he sat behind his desk/casket. 

“...I see. Have you ever thought of claiming them as dependents?” She asked taking a legal pad out of her briefcase. 

“They aren’t dependent on me! I don’t have anything they want.” 

“You may not have blood but a crypt usually houses entire ecosystems of flora and fauna and without the upkeep or...downkeep in this situation.” She smirked. 

He smirked back. Was that wit? 

“ You could say without you these adorable little deathlings would wither away.” She said offering her hand to a black widow. 

“You certainly know how to mangle the truth.” He said eyeing her. Trying to figure out if she was worth his time. 

“ Oh I don’t mangle the truth.” She let the deadly spider onto his desk so she could catch the tasty beetle walking across his desk. “I tackle it down, sink my fangs into it, poison it and suck out all the assets for myself.” She said as she literally narrated the spiders actions. “..but I always wrap a little nugget for later. Never know when that leverage will come in handy..” she said watching the spider carry the carcas off to her web. 

The Cryptkeeper was biting his finger. So ghastly. So macabre. So...venomous. She might be able to destroy any hope that the VaultKeeper and The Old Witch might have. They would leave him alone! Finally! He could go back to reading his tales without interruption!!! 

“...Do you have a name my deadly debutante?..” he raised an eyeridge. 

“Juliette Gravestone. Attourney at Maw.” 

“Care to hear the gorey details of my case?” He asked leaning back in his chair. Crossing one leg over the other. 

“Waiting with baited breath..” she said clicking her pen to write everything down. 

...  
It took him a good 20 minutes to explain his case. How a witch and a deranged sorcerer where trying to steal his show. 

“I’ll take the case. I’ll draw up a...friendly disposition. It’ll take the tension off..” she said lightly chewing on her pen. 

“I thought we were trying to terrify them.” The Cryptkeeper said with a deadpan face. 

“Oh we are. Would you rather pull the rug out from under someone and have them land on a bed of feathers? Or nails?” She smirked standing slinging her bag over her bony shoulder. 

“...You’re incredible.” He said. Loving this twisted mind of hers. 

“No. I’m just a really good lawyer..” she said. She gave him her card. 

“I’ll be in touch. I’ll need to see you film a show. See exactly why it’s important to you. If I’m to represent you I need to know all I can.” 

He smiled. “Be my guest. I’m taping on Thursday. I hope I don’t shock you to second death. My stories are supposed to scare folks into a coma..” he grinned. He was quite proud of his tales. 

“I went to law school. In the 1930s. I think I’ll be fine. Thursday it is then.” He showed her upstairs and saw her out.

“If you want to keep those two away try ignoring them. It sounds like they thrive on attention.” She smiled at him before going back out to her car. A red and black herse. 

She waved to him as she pulled out and he waved back. He walked back into his house and could smell her perfume. “Murky lake water and dead flowers...” she was a lady of class. 

And not very bad to look at either. 

How long had it been since he had seen an undead woman? 

Certainly there were plenty of groupies that sent him fan mail or called him. But they were always so young. Bleeh. Having a younger undead around? Constantly? What a pain the tombstone. 

He leaned against the door and huffed. Why was he thinking about this? He needed to get to casket. The sun was coming up. 

... 

Her scent lingered in his house. Every time he smelled it he thought of her. He angrily slammed a book down as he did this for the fifth time today. 

“I must be stressed, upset at those clowns trying to steal my show. I’ve never spent as much as a second thinking about someone other than my horrid self.” He said, rubbing in-between his eyes. 

“I’m too old to be thinking like this.” He blew two stringy hairs out of his face. 

...  
The sun set and Thursday eve arrived. 

He opened his eyes and slowly rose from his casket. He yawned gently. Stretching, cracking his nearly 200 year old bones. He stood and pulled off his night cap. He smiled seeing his nasty creepy, crawly crypt. “Ah..Crypt, Sweet Crypt!..”He let out a small cackle as he dressed himself. A simple smoking jacket and a pair of slacks. He wanted to be “cultured” for the taping tonight. 

He rolled his eyes at the creature that lived in his walls. Telling him he was dressing up for that lady lawyer. 

“I am not “primping” I always have cologne on when I tape.” He said patting the nasty smelling concoction onto his dry dead skin. 

“Do you think she’ll be scared?...That -I’ll- scare her?” He asked, dabbing a little extra behind his ear. “I’m asking because that’s the POINT of my gorey stories!” He scoffed. “Oh wort do you know?” 

He walked out onto his set. His undead set hands where setting everything up. 

He set the book infront of him and gave one of his set hands a box of matches the light all the candle-operas. “Dont burn the other cheek, Gordon.” He chuckled. He visibly shook when he heard the horror bell. 

“She’s here. ...er..The Lawyer is here.” He said hurrying up the steps to get to her. If his heart could be beating it would have flew out of his chest by now. 

He opened the door and certainly enough there she was. She wore a billowy sleeved blood red blouse, a yellow handkerchief that was pinned with a skull broach. Her black slacks had a wide leg. The two white skunk stripes she had curled around her face so daintily. 

“Hello, Mr.Cryptkeeper! I hope I’m not late!” Juliette said smiling. 

He tried to open his mouth but his heart managed to fly out of his chest and hit her in the face. She let out a friendly chuckle. Holding his embalmed heart in her hand. 

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel welcome.” She gave it back to him. 

“Usually I keep my organs to myself! But we’re not playing for creeps.” He said taking his heart back to put it back in his chest. 

He offered her his arm. He was only a few inches shorter than her but it still worked. 

“Shall we? The crypt awaits, My dear, Ghouliette!.” 

“That’s not my name.”She smiled and took it letting him lead her. 

The stage hands looked at her as she entered. “Oh. The lighting is beautiful.” She said as she saw the candles lit. 

“..I recall you said you enjoyed traditions? Just a little curtiscream for you. As a thank you.” He showed her to a seat and she took out her legal pad and began writing. 

He sat in his chair and leaned back crossing one leg over the other. 

“Good Evening, Crypt-kiddies. It’s your cultured carrion host, The Cryptkeeper, here. You know I was thinking about traditions.” He narrowly dodged a knife being thrown at him. “ They can be a real PAIN in the neck. Or the can be a blessing in disguise.” He said as he pulled the knive out of his chair. “Today’s cut-throat chronicle is about a slice of life story that was interrupted by the love of a beautiful woman. Who was much more than what she seemed. I call it: Love is Blind.” He opened the book and began reading. 

She watched and heard him read. He was mesmerizing . She saw why he would threaten The Vault Keeper and The Old Witch. He had some serious acting chops. 

“..Oh poor Thomas. Losing his head over a pretty girl. It just goes to show you. The wedding might be stressful but The Honeymoon is usually murder..Till next time my Deathlings. Remember never judge a book by her cover!” he cackled. 

She stood when he yelled “CUT!” She walked over to him. 

“Sooo? What did you think my lethal legal council?” He grinned. 

“You have an amazing talent. I’m in awe. I dont think anyone else could have done a better job!” She said. Took it upon himself to lead her around by the arm. She raised an eye-ridge but let it slide. He was a client. 

“This is what they’re really after. All of the tales. Over 400 years of stories penned by previous Cryptkeepers..Whoever has the book, has the title to tell the tales.” He said patting the red book. 

“So it’s power they want...I’m not shocked.” She said putting her hand on it and barely touched his. His heart came out again. “Twice in one night. I do love a man with stamina.” She chuckled and handed his heart back to him. 

“Such a wit.” He said putting it back in. 

“How would you feel about me being on retainer? There’s a lot of assets here and it’s goi g to take me a long time to compile my case.” She said looking around. 

“...What would that entrail?” He asked..wondering if she was implying what he thought she was implying. 

“Oh I’d stay here for a few days, a week maybe. And write everything out.” She said finishing a thought on her legal pad. 

“Stay?...here?” He asked wide-eyed. For a brief moment he allowed her to see just a glimmer of desperation. He was lonely. He would never ever admit it but he was. The more he was around her the more intoxicated with lust he was became. 

“Oh if it’s an inconvenience...” she said, hoping she didn’t upset him. 

“NO! No...It wouldn’t be an inconvenience..I’m. just not sure if I have an empty coffin..” he said looking around the crypt. 

“Oh, That won’t be necessary..I can sleep upstairs in a bed..” she said..no way in hell was she sleeping in a coffin.

“I’d like to take an inventory of what you hold most dear. I have a feeling our counterparts will want to try to seize some of this for compensation.” She said trailing a spindly hand over his desk. “If they get any sort of lawyer that’s worth two fangs they’ll tell them to counter-sue..which is what -I- would do...but..I’m pretty much the best..Who could compare?” She flipped her hair a bit and she grinned. 

He smirked. The ego on this woman was a mile long. Good thing that entertained him. 

“Why don’t I tell you about all of that..over dinner?..If you eat that is..I’m not one to talk but your’e looking a bit malnourished, Deary..”He cackled. 

She found his humor charming. She chuckled. That was the second time he called her dear this evening. ....Why did that make her face feel hot? She shouldn’t be feeling hot! She has no blood!! 

“That sounds wonderful. I actually haven’t eaten this month. I’ll go send for my things...Do you have a telephone?” She asked. He slid his old, French style phone to her. She sat on his desk and dialed. 

He gave her some privacy but out of the corner of his large yellow eye he watched her. What sinister energy she had. Watching her was like watching a vulture waiting for it’s prey to die. He bit his bottom lip. He wondered if her dress was concealing any open wounds she might have. He made an audible “Mm..” 

She looked at him, due to that noise. 

He quickly cleared his throat. She went back to her phone call. 

What was he doing?! He shouldn’t be feeling this way! He hadn’t touched anyone in nearly 100 years! He was too old for this! 

Too old ...to be imagining how delicious and chemical soaked her skin must be. Much too old to be envisioning how lovely it would be to pin her on top of his casket/desk she was seated on and let her FEEL how much of a man he still was. Oh what a silly thought..Yes...yes he is much too old for that...

She had said his name 3 times. 

“Hello?...Mr.Cryptkeeper?..are you...alright?”

He fell back when he realized how close she was. He wasn’t scared just startled. 

He got up and dusted himself off. 

“Yes! “ he sprang up. “My dear! I’m fine! Perfectly fine!” 

Three times. She thought to herself. 

“I..just..get bewitched..from slime to time..Why don’t you go upstairs and pick out a room and I’ll uh...see about dinner.” He said patting her arm. Watching her go up the stairs. 

...”This is going to be a long seven days..”

The Cryptkeeper thought to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this series! Who knows!!


End file.
